


hers/his

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, KARA (Band), Korean Actor RPF, 룸메이트 | Roommate (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3835921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The next time she sees him it's mid-July, the city is <i>disgustingly</i> hot, and she's wrapping up the rest of her comeback with KARA.</i>
</p>
<p>Jackson writes a song. And then suddenly, they have a unit. It's not <i>We Got Married</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hers/his

**Author's Note:**

> So this got a little out of hand, going from a three sentence request to... this. Fulfilling a [tumblr](fated-addiction.tumblr.com) request.

The next time she sees him it's mid-July, the city is _disgustingly_ hot, and she's wrapping up the rest of her comeback with KARA. They promised to do this, of course, but having coffee isn't exactly the simplest of things between schedules, his and hers, and schedules _for_ schedules, and it still kind of makes her head spin even though she's way too far from being new.

"He's late," she tells her mother, picking a table by the window. She spent an hour behind the counter. She nurses a latte too, studying the streets. "I hate that he's always late."

Her mother ruffles her hair. "Without a doubt," she teases, "you are most definitely my daughter."

Youngji can only smile.

Her mind wanders, after. She isn't entirely sure why he called her, even though coffee is something ridiculously normal. They're friends, you know. Friends do stupid things like coffee and walks and even if they ARE idols, you figure out how to walk down the street together without a billion people wondering if you're dating or not. Her mouth twists. She feels a little flutter. She can't even think about about that.

She's just curious that he called first, since she expected to be the first one, and why, if anything, did he sound so serious. Business is business, Youngji-ah. And she remembered just how easy his tongue rolled over the syllable of her name. Her mind goes through the day too. She paid particular attention at the salon this morning; her hair is darker, she listened to Hara when she told her the _jean skirt_ and not the white one. These are silly, stupid things that she finds herself never paying attention to but only paying attention to when he wedges himself back into her life. Not that he's left, she corrects herself.

"So."

She jumps. Jackson appears out of nowhere, drops into the seat across from her, halfway out of his jacket and a wave to her mom.

"I wrote a song," he says, casually too, stealing her latte to drink. She blinks. He gets foam on his lip. "I brought it too."

"You're acting like this is the first song you've ever wrote."

His eyes narrow. "Don't be like that."

Youngji turns her wrist. She taps the face of her watch and her head tilts to the side.

"You're late," she says. Then with mockingly, "I hate when you're late. And you had me listen to a song a couple of days ago, nerd."

"Nerd?" He digs into his pocket, blinking at her. "What drama are you watching _now_?"

"Shut _up_."

He smirks, reaching across the table. His movements are abrupt and he nearly knocks her drink into her lap. It takes her a minute to realize that he has his phone in his hand, a pair of headphones, and he's pushing her hair back to put an earbud into her ear. She listens and it's sort of a disorganized sound -- partly because she's startled, confused, and mostly because his hand still lingers around her jaw. But he's looking at her seriously so she bites her lips, closes her eyes, and listens.

The beat is easy to follow. She picks up two possible places for hooks and then, weirdly, finds herself humming because it's good, of _course_ , it's good and she isn't surprised because Jackson is Jackson that's what it's really bought.

"So you wrote a song," she murmurs.

"I wrote a song," he nods. "I have some lyrics. Nothing ready though. But we should do it."

"Do it?"

"You know," he says, "a song. Together. A collaboration-unit- _thing_."

She laughs, not because it's funny, but because she has no idea WHY he's asking her and why she's so surprised. She feels herself shy away from the idea almost immediately.

"Jackson," she says slowly. "I'm the last person you want --"

"The first," he interrupts, "actually."

"Liar."

He shakes his head. "It's a little disorganized at the moment," he says, tapping his forehead too. "I mean, I have a song and we're all doing different things and I don't exactly know how your schedule works at the moment, but I feel like this is a little less invasive than We Got Married, so why not do this with me instead?"

It takes her a moment to realize what is going on, another split second to consider what he _really_ is asking her, then a few more to really process it.

"There are about thirty billion people you could have asked before me," she says, gently taking the ear bud out. Her eyes narrow and she's suspicious. "Why are you asking me?"

He shrugs. "You make the most sense."

"Is it a love song?" she half-blurts, lips pressed underneath her teeth. She's suddenly inexplicably shy, like it's suddenly too much and she doesn't really know what else to say other than that.

His nose wrinkles. "No," he says. "I'm not the ballad king, Youngji-ah."

"I don't understand --"

"Why are you surprised that I'm asking you?" he says instead. He leans forward and pokes her nose. "We've talked about it before."

Which is true, okay. They have talked about having a song as a unit, more so as a joke than as a reality. It makes her nervous that he thinks about her in a professional sense too, she thinks. It's weird, sure, but she and Jackson have only really scratched that surface here and there with each other. She can't really understand why. Maybe it makes her feelings a little bit more real. Maybe it'll open up a lot more than they can handle.

"Okay," she says slowly and he perks up. She raises a hand. "Wait, just here me out."

"But you said yes."

Her eyes narrow. "Wang Jackson."

"Okay." He smirks, leaning forward. "Even though, I know you're going to say yes. Tell me."

"What _I'm_ saying," she murmurs, "is that we can't just come up with a unit on a whim. We have to talk to our companies --"

"I have," he interrupts.

" _Together_ ," she corrects. "And there's a lot of planning. A lot of talking. A lot of things like setting specific blocks of time aside. Where would we promote? When," she adds too, "would we promote? I know you're super busy. I have to go back to Japan for another month too."

"Do you want to do it?"

She blinks. He's serious, again. His mouth tightens but it's slight, almost too slight, and she's not entirely sure what that means. She watches the changes in his face instead.

"Do you?" he asks again.

Her gaze drops. Her fingers curl. Her heart begins to pace and her latte is probably cold, she thinks. Everything else has been a whirlwind though. Her whole injection into the idol life; it's not even about that anymore.

There is no one else she'd rather do it with. Youngji decides.

"Okay," she says.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

"Just do We Got Married!"

Sunny buys her and Hara dinner in Japan. They have a weird window of time in between their concerts and Sunny, as she tells them, is the only one without a boyfriend so she might as well spend her money wisely.

They pick a small place between hotels. Hara orders meat for the table. Youngji is already on her third glass of water, nerves, and trying not to check her phone for news on what the next step is for the two of them.

"Eonni," she murmurs, flipping her phone over. She sighs when she just sees the time. "That would just be ridiculously awkward. And we would argue. You know we would argue."

Sunny pokes her forehead. "You, crazy girl, are too perfect for television," she half-teases, enough so that Hara laughs too. "But, anyway, what's the plan?"

The spread in front of them grows seemingly larger and Youngji is distracted, almost easily, by the buzzing of her phone and the owner bringing them extra meat because Hara has the PRETTIEST smile. She scrolls through her phone and Jackson's response blinks brightly.

SEE YOU SOON!

Youngji sighs.

"The plan," Hara breaks through, nudging her. Her lips curl and Youngji jumps. "Jackson can wait," she teases.

" _Eonni_."

Sunny laughs. "She's not wrong."

Youngji hesitates. She sits straighter. She opens her mouth. She closes it. They don't even have a unit name, she thinks. She looks at Hara, who knows, and then at Sunny, who definitely knows, if only because there is no kept secret in the industry. But she's worried and it's no secret that she's worried because she's been around long enough to see things happen and not happen, to see great ideas get lost.

"You're super serious about this," Sunny says and then Hara too, shifting forward, feeding her a piece of meat. "It's not like you," Sunny adds.

"Oh but it is," Hara says and Youngji gets another text. CALL ME BACK WHEN YOU'RE ON YOUR WAY. "She's always been like this."

"I'm too practical for my own good," she agrees, flushing.

Sunny laughs. "I wouldn't call it practical --" her phone buzzes again and Sunny reaches forward, snatching it away. "Eonni," she protests.

"I'll call him," Sunny says.

She unlocks her phone, of course, and Youngji is suddenly distracted by the amount of meat Hara begins to plate for her. There isn't a unit name, she thinks. JYP is into the idea though and it's smart, she thinks too, to play and capitalize on the popularity that they generate. Her mother always said she had the mind for business.

"Yah!" Sunny's voice breaks through her thoughts and Hara laughs next to her. "Hi Jackson," she says too and Youngji is red, maybe too red, which is ridiculous because, like, what even, you know? "Leave Youngji alone," Sunny says and laughs too. "She's having dinner with us. We'll hand her over when we're ready to."

" _Eonni_ ," she groans.

No unit name, she remembers too. Just a song. There permission, but not FULL permission because there is her CEO and lawyers and actual time that needs to be spent gauging if it's really worth it. It gives her anxiety, flashbacks even, to when she was a trainee and uncertainty was the only constant that she ever felt like she faced.

Sunny hangs up.

She leans forward, over the table, her hair falls into her eyes and she's serious, maybe too serious. 

"Do it because you want to," she says. "That's my advice."

Youngji takes this to heart.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

In September, they get a name.

Before that, suddenly they have three songs, three amazing songs, and Youngji is singing every chance she gets -- sometimes, it's for practice, mostly it's because she's going through the motions of that same, nervous high that she got when she was first settling into debuting with KARA. They practice two days in the beginning of the week, then Thursday to Sunday morning. They have choreography. They have a possible concept. It's even more intimidating that JYP himself is producing two out of the three songs because the song that they're going to possible, actually, _no_ , they're going to definitely lead with is Jackson's, all Jackson's.

"So we have a name," he says.

They're in a practice room. It's her company at the beginning of the week. She's on the floor. Sweat gathers at the back of her neck. It sinks into the collar of her shirt and she picks at her leggings as she pulls her legs to her chest.

"We have a name," she says too. She shifts and turns onto her stomach, reaching for her water. Her lips curl. "It's kind of Indie."

"It's cool," he says. "I like it."

Youngji laughs. "I didn't say that I didn't. I even like the hyphen."

HERS/HIS was her idea, ironically, because they were tossing around things with their initials and birthdays and the usually things that come up in brainstorming sessions. It was stupid because they were fighting (who is surprised?) and she grabbed his notebook and just wrote it. They're versatile, she argued, and they should keep it simple and suddenly, she and Jackson exploded into a work relationship. It's a strange feeling, even stranger to combat this level of professionalism with their friendship and everything else that she tries to deal with. Her feelings don't seem to sink in as fast. There are times, of course. There are always times.

"We should start again," he says absently.

She glances at the clock. "You need to eat something," she says. "And we're going to probably go into the night again."

"You sound like my mom."

"You're ridiculous," she says. Her eyes are bright and she shifts, swinging into a seating position. He meets her halfway, dropping unceremoniously onto the floor and sitting with her.

"I know," he grins. She bites her lip and he pushes her bangs from her face. "What's up?"

She shakes her head. "Nervous," she confesses.

"We'll be fine," he says. It's immediate. It may be a silly reassurance. She breathes out. Her hands press against her knees. "Everything is going the way it should. And we're putting the work in," he shrugs.

"I know," she says. "It doesn't make me any less nervous."

He studies her, like really studies her. She watches his face change, only slowly, his mouth parting and the color of his eyes darkening. They're alone in the room. In another hour, their choreographer will come back.

"I wouldn't do this with anyone else," he says, and says it firmly, maybe too firmly. It's enough to make her blush. She feels her face flush, the redness crawling along her throat and neck.

"You're too charming."

It kind of falls out of her mouth. It's softer than she intends it to be. Usually, it's just easier to tease him. She finds herself serious too.

Her mouth curls. "You should be careful," she teases. "I might like you a little more for that."

His fingers tuck her hair behind her ear too.

"You should like me a lot more."

She narrows her eyes.

"And listen to me even more," he says too.

"If I did that, you know how crazy things would get. You can't even remember to brush your teeth sometimes because you get ridiculously excited."

"Ugh," he gets mock-offended, wrinkling his nose. "You're no fun, you know."

"I'm terrible," she says solemnly. Jackson laughs.

It's the worst kept secret between the two of them. She knows that she can't put those words together and actually come out and say it. She's most definitely aware of her feelings, what kind of feelings they are, and ultimately, that's more terrifying than being surprised. She also knows that every reaction he has to her is just as genuine.

The choreographer comes back early. They break apart, but not by much. They sit close. They start talking about the dance. It's not sexy this, it's not sexy that, it's the choreographer staring at them, quite serious, and making a motion with his hands.

"You have to act as you are," he says. "Just as serious as I've seen you, of course," he adds. "Remember your feelings are genuine and that this is a love song."

"Got it," Jackson says and Youngji finds herself laughing nervously, only nodding.

There is nothing too complicated to the dance. It's not the song for it; Jackson will have three dancers, she'll have three dancers, and the pacing of the song will be spread out between those two groupings until the end. It's unnerving, only because she doesn't have her eonnis and this isn't a song about being in love, or growing through a love, or being empowered as a girl. She's sure it's just as different for Jackson; when you separate from a group and a particular style, things change.

They go through the steps though, again and again, practicing an interlude even -- she goes a little harder than he does because part of it involves her expanding her dance, but she still has a lot to catching up to do. She works herself hard into a sweat, her shirt pulling at her hips, her ponytail whipping hard against her neck, and he's right there with her, pushing himself just as hard.

Somewhere in all of this, she starts to think it.

They make sense, you know.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

Seungyeon sends flowers for their first Music Bank stage. Gyuri calls her from Japan. Hara is at the airport, but has called her twice already. "Remember to breathe," she tells her. "You have a bad habit of thinking too much too."

There are flowers from Sunny and calls and _more_ flowers from all the Roommates. Jackson's team members are in and out, stopping by. Bambam makes sure to tease them too. There's Amber and Henry. A couple more their friends. Everyone is excited and ready and she's not entirely sure what to do with her nerves.

They'll meet their dancers by the stage.

"Hey."

Jackson grabs her when the last stylist leaves. He tugs her hair. She pushes at his chest. She smells like perfume and hairspray. Her face is a little too soft.

"I can hear you thinking," he says too.

"I'm allowed to be nervous."

Jackson shrugs. "If you're nervous, I'm nervous," he says and shifts so that he's standing over her. "You don't need to be nervous with me here."

"Jackson," she murmurs.

His hands cup her face and she figures he's going to shake her, just a little bit, because when she gets nervous, she does get a little crazy and she does think _too_ much. But she's felt a little stuffy all day, slightly panicked, and with too many people around.

"You can breathe," he says softly, his fingers dragging under her chin and along her neck. He rolls his fingers slowly, in soft, warm circles.

Her face warms. She tries to say something. She even hears herself say something. _I don't do that_ and she sort of tastes it, maybe, or maybe even says something else. Her head starts to spin and he's too close, way too close, and she's not entirely sure why he's too close.

There's no warning. He just kisses her.

Anyone could walk in. There are no cameras. There's no problem of constantly watched like this. There's a different kind of walking in that could happen. But she forgets that, her head spinning backwards and suddenly focusing on what she knows in the moment: his mouth is warm, then it's hot, and he's coaxing her lips open. She's embarrassed and shy and confused that she can feel things like his tongue and hands and the way one hand hits her hip and the other curls around the back of her neck to keep her close.

Then she's kissing him back.

It's a quiet moment, but her ears are ringing and she hears the hallways, full of people, and laughter and singing because Music Bank is always full of energy. He doesn't stop. He doesn't break away and she's thinking all sorts of crazy thoughts. Is this their moment? Should this be their moment? Did he write a song for her?

He pulls back. She's breathing heavily.

"I --" she starts, but she can't really bring herself to say anything. She doesn't know what to say.

He's gruff though.

"I can't do this," he says.

Her eyes are wide. His mouth opens, closes, and she stares at him like he's grown another head.

He steps back, his hands rub against his arms, and she doesn't know what to say other than something like " _Okay_ ," she mumbles, and everything is bubbling up. The stylists are back. Their dancers come in and everything ramping up again.

She thinks to herself: keep it simple. The energy is good. The energy is sharp. Her heart is pounding and she steps to the side, putting on a face, even as he stands next to her, even when he grabs her hand and they both say a few words to their team, to the group of people that is about to carry from the next couple of months for promotions.

But she's not thinking about that, even as they go to the stage, even after their microphones are checked and Jackson stops, kneels down, and reties the laces of her sneaker wedge.

He's kissed her. 

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

They don't talk about it.

Everything is full speed ahead. There was no MV with their first single because both their companies were testing the waters. Now though, the response is bigger and better and faster than anyone really expected and there are tons of articles talking about their professionalism, their ability to work together, and, of course, who could forget their _chemistry_.

They start filming their first MV on a Thursday night, just outside JYP, between street lights and a mess of parked cars to protect the integrity of the video.

She might kill him first.

"I'm not doing this," she says, her teeth clenched. Her face is red and her fingers curl into fists and oh my _god_ , she's really going to hit him if he doesn't stop teasing her about how _terrible_ she is about being sexy.

Her shirt is riding up her hips. Jackson's eyes are bright and he spins around her, waving off the rest of his members that stopped by to congratulate the success of their weird, little unit. Hara had even stopped by earlier too, called her after and said, really dryly, "just DATE already -- although a sub unit is a pretty good excuse to kiss him --" and all Youngji wanted to do is _die_ , okay, because she did kiss him (he kissed her _first_ ) and there's no way she's going to forget that.

"Come _onnn_ ," Jackson says.

"You just called me awkward," she points out. "You need to deal with girls better. I know I'm not exactly the most _hiphop_ girl you know and I don't --"

"You're a special flower," he teases and she kicks him.

The set is small enough that it feels big, bigger as a reality and he moves to her, grabbing her, and sweeps her into hug. His mouth is at her ear and it's hot, heavy, a little lazy, and what are you DOING, Wang Jackson?

"You know I suck at lying," he says. 

Her eyes are wide.

"You guys are so cute," an assistant says, passing them and she breaks away first.

"Signals," she hisses, pushing at Jackson, who only laughs as she gets angrier and angrier.

They have a moment before they start shooting again. JYP sends them a food truck, for all their staff and dancers and the director, who she really, really likes. She likes video shoots too and outside of her own, she's done an MV for VIXX which was fun and full of nerves.

It's just different with Jackson.

"Don't be mad," he says.

"I'm not mad," she answers.

"I was just teasing."

She glares. "I'm not _mad_."

"You're mad," he pokes at her ear, then drags his fingers along the line of the jaw. She tries to wiggle away because she's irritated and she wants to be irritated for the next couple of minutes since she's got to try and PRETEND to be his girlfriend in this MV.

Playing pretend doesn't feel like a stretch though.

"I have a headache," she lies, batting at his hands. He pokes at her side. "I do!"

"You're making a face," he says, and then his voice softens: "I know that face. That's you're 'I'm going to lie to Jackson because I don't really know what to say to Jackson and I don't want to yell because Jackson doesn't like it when I yell at him!' face."

She blinks.

"You did it again!"

"I didn't do anything," she protests and then steps away, moving to get in line for food. She can't eat too much. She's going to start dancing almost immediately. They have separate shots and then they'll come back together afterwards.

You're tired, she tells herself.

The mood is just really great and she hates that she feels like she's lagging behind. The good news is that she can hide in line, wait for her food, and talk to some of her dancers while they wait to start shooting again. She just doesn't want to hear herself think, you know.

Since _Roommate_ ended, and between those months with comebacks and everything else, she hasn't really thought about how she feels. She likes being with him. She likes having him more as a constant presence, even though they talk almost every day, share the same friends, and move around in the same circles. She can totally say that he's her best friend and part of her, the immediate part of her, goes back to that kiss in the practice room.

It's terrifying to want more. She knows how to be disappointed too.

"Hey."

She turns and her mouth opens. Jackson shoves an apple forward and she takes a surprised bite, making a muffled sound into the fruit. Her eyes are wide.

His feet shuffle forward. "Sorry," he says.

The apple snaps under her teeth and she hits him with her free hand, grabbing the apple too. He leans in, steals a bite, and this is SO why she's confused all the time.

"For what?"

His eyes narrow. "For, uh," he mutters. "For stuff."

"Yah." Her sneaker hits his. "You need to be a little more specific. You're sorry for pulling my hair? For stealing my hat? For telling me that I didn't really look that cute --"

"You don't," he says and he's eyeing her. She flushes, confused. "You look beautiful," he says and then she really kicks him, glaring. "I'm serious!" He exclaims.

"I don't know that!"

His eyes darken. "Why don't you ever believe me?"

"You can't get mad," she says. She pokes his arm and he swats her hand away, taking another bite of the apple in her her hand too. "You call other girls --"

"I like _girls_."

She snorts. "I know, idiot. All I'm saying is that if you're trying to woo me --" she doesn't even know what she's saying until it's too late, "-- you're doing a terrible job."

If it affects him, he doesn't say. The change though, it's almost too subtle to notice and the dancers sort of gather around them so that they can eat together by the food truck. Her stylist even stops by to remind her about the touch ups that she needs to do before she starts shooting later. But something's different, too different, and her head's spinning a little more, her nerves begin to pulse again, and there's just no time to consider any of this.

They still haven't talked about the kiss.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

They have dinner with Dongwook. He treats them to meat. There was supposed to be a _Roommate_ dinner but Sunny's in Japan, a couple of them have movies, and Nana bowed out at the last minute when her schedule changed, promising to stop by when they have their stage for their new MV and _real_ first single.

"Heard a rumor," Dongwook says, just after Jackson leaves to answer a call from his parents in Hong Kong outside. He pushes her plate forward and points his chopsticks at it. "Eat," he says too. "Are you dating him?"

She coughs on her water. "What?"

"Dating. I mean, no one's going to be surprised if you are and if it goes public, I think the response might be a lot better than both of you are thinking."

Youngji blinks, confused. "We're ... not dating, oppa."

"Are you sure?" he laughs.

Of course, there have been pictures and comments and fans formulate their own opinion. She's been asked about their relationship so many times. Does the song mean something? Is there are any deeper meaning? Are you REALLY best friends?

Youngji sighs. She adjusts her jacket over her shoulders. She leans forward, biting her lip. Dongwook's an oppa, so all of the sudden bursting out with OMG HE KISSED ME isn't exactly something she wants to do. It makes her miss her eonnis, but even telling them will just make everything infinitely more complicated than she would like.

She tells him that. "It's complicated," she says quietly. "I don't even know the answer."

"Have you talked?"

Youngji laughs. "Oppa. When do we ever talk? We're surrounded by so many people, so many questions, and then when we do have a moment --" her face flushes and she feels the heat creep into her skin, " -- just," she hesitates, picking at her food, "It's complicated," she finishes.

She turns her gaze to the outside, watching Jackson sort of pace as he talks quickly on the phone. He's animated, half-smiling with worry but he's still happy. She wonders if he'll ever share that part of him with her. She tries and thinks of a time she's even gotten a glance.

"I'm an open book," she says suddenly.

Dongwook laughs. "I know."

"I can't hide anything." Her mouth curls and she shrugs. "Maybe it's a good thing. Mostly, I feel like it's one of my biggest faults."

"You're too serious," Dongwook says gently, ruffling her hair. "And you should probably ask him too. He may surprise you."

What he says stays with her through out dinner, through Jackson teasing her about something stupid, even as they take the car back to the practice room at her company because they are going to have a late night. Would he really, she wonders, surprise her? 

Can she even figure out how to say the words?

Their manager parks by the side of the building and gets out. She hears herself say something like _oppa_ , give us a minute and Jackson is halfway out of the car when she just decides to reach and grab his wrist.

Her fingers curl quickly. She's a lot stronger than she wants to be. She yanks him back and leans against the door, shifting to sit on the ledge of the van. She keeps a hold of his wrist, watching their manager disappear inside.

"What's wrong?"

She looks up. He's looking down at her hand and his wrist. He doesn't move away.

"We need to talk," she says.

"Are you okay?"

"I --" her mouth purses together tightly. Choose your words wisely, she hears her mother in her head. "I don't really know. I don't think I'm not fine. I mean. I'm _fine_. I'm really glad this is going insanely well and you're here with me because I don't think I could do this without you, you know."

He laughs. "You totally could."

She shakes her head, her bangs brushing over her eyes. She bites her lip.

"I don't know," she says. "I don't know."

She wants to ask him then. It feels a little sharp, suddenly, the urge to figure out why he's gone and kissed her. It's not responsible, if anything, between the massive amount of promotions, the unpredictable success that they've had, and not really coming out and addressing what it is between the two of them.

"We're going to go inside," she murmurs, leaning against the wall, "and we're going to practice all night, we'll probably fight about something stupid --" Jackson laughs, turning to lean against the wall next to her. She takes a deep breath and pushes herself to continue. "And every time we have a little break," she breathes, "I'm going to think about why you kissed me that day."

He's quiet. She hears him breathe out. It's a little shaky. Her head turns and she watches as his drops back, his chin tilting up. His hands rustle in his jacket pockets and she listens to him sigh.

Her mouth opens. Then it closes.

"I like you."

She's not startled, but she sighs and it's a little shaky.

"I wouldn't kiss if you if I didn't," he says and he turns, meeting her gaze. He reaches forward, pushing her bangs back. "I can give you that."

"So do you go around kissing all the girls you like?" she asks. Her eyes narrow too. There's a bit of spite in her voice and she bites her lip, shuffling her feet forward. "I didn't mean that," she mumbles.

He laughs a little. "So you do get jealous too."

She sighs loudly, then stomps her foot, whirling around to face him completely. She glares, hands on her hips.

"Of course, I do! I don't do the subtle mind game thing well and I don't _like_ cool guys. I like straightforward guys. That's why I like you too. Because I don't have to pretend to understand what's going on or even feel like a complete idiot when something _happens_. I get a lot jealous, Jackson. A LOT when I can barely sort through my feelings too."

He laughs a little. "Just tell me. Sometimes when you ramble off like that --"

"I am not RAMBLING!"

He laughs hard. "Yah." She hits his arm and he ducks, grabbing her hand. " _Ya-ah_ ," he breathes. "Don't be like that."

"Then be _serious_!"

She pushes back at him, but he's simply stronger, or her position is just a little more awkward. He pulls her forward and she stumbles into him, bracing herself onto his free arm and they're sort of pressed back into the wall, somewhere between the car. He pokes at her side and she laughs out loud. He's trying to distract her too.

They wrestle for a moment and she spins out of his arms, only to be caught again with Jackson telling her that she's SO NOT allowed to be mad at her because he's the best and you can't be mad at the best. Finally, his arm slides around her waist and he holds onto her.

"I am serious."

She's breathless, her fingers curling in his jacket. "You kissed me," she tells him. "And then you said _I can't_."

Jackson rubs the back of his head. "Well, I didn't think about that part really well."

"You think?" her voice is dry.

He pokes her hard in the side. She smacks his hand away.

"Look," he says. "I wanted to kiss you," he says too and she turns bright red, flushed, because his honesty is brutal enough. "I don't regret kissing you," he says. "It was, uh, great --" he rubs his face, his feet shuffling. "But --"

"Yah, you're not making any sense."

He throws his hands up. "You like romance, you know? It should be romantic and we're busy. I figured we could do something _normal_ when we were NOT busy --"

"Jackson, we're never not BUSY. Not even on holidays."

"You know what I mean!" He stomps his foot. She bites her lip, trying not to laugh. "I like you," he says. He pokes her nose. "I like you and I want to do this right, if there's a right way to do this, but we're doing this backwards and forwards and sideways and I want to be _smart_ about it, okay, because this kind of thing is important to me, you're important to me, and yeah, okay, I promised to not date for three years but you're here and I don't want someone else to take it away."

Youngji softens. Her lips twitch and he looks at her, almost waiting. She shrugs.

"You were rambling," she murmurs.

"You heard me."

Youngji laughs softly. "I did." 

"You're not mad," he says slowly.

"I'm still trying to figure out what you're trying to say to me," she counters dryly. "But I think I get it."

He looks confused, almost adorably so, and she feels herself become just a little braver. It's not the answer. She might not ever get the answer she wants and she might never go beyond anything what they are already.

But she takes a step forward, into him, her hands cupping his face as she presses into her toes. She thinks _anyone can walk out_ and that thought becomes quieter than it's ever been before. Her mouth slides over his, just slowly, puckering forward as she sighs and tastes a little bit of the coffee they had early. He makes a noise too and his hands drop to her hips, pulling her closer and forcing her to balance on her toes.

She finds herself kissing him carefully though. Her mouth feels hot and wet and she skims her teeth along his lip, sucking a little and then feeling clumsy because she doesn't really know what else to do after that. She convinces herself to taste him, but doesn't really know how to go from there. Breathless, she breaks back. Her eyes are closed but she can feel her fingers tighten in fistfuls of his shirt and jacket.

"I don't like when we don't talk about things," she says quietly. "And whether it's waiting three years or next week or whatever it is, don't forget that I'm just as confused as you are --"

"You've got a better grip than I do," he murmurs.

"Sometimes," she says. She's cheeky. He snorts. "But," she adds. Her voice softens again. "I'm not going anywhere, Jackson. And I don't need any sort of grand gestures or moments or events --" Her nose wrinkles and she shakes her head. "Those are embarrassing."

"I know."

He laughs when he hits her. They turn and his arm drops around her shoulders. She feels okay, she thinks. Like they've gotten past _something_. It's just that they're not completely out of the way, she thinks. Maybe it doesn't really matter right now.

"We have a lot of work to do," Jackson says.

Youngji doesn't even realize she's kissed him first. This time.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

 

Their last stage coincides with weeks of a _break_ looming on the horizon. KARA is scheduled to have a min-comeback during the various holiday songs and in Japan, no less, as she already promised her mother that it'll be fast, furious, and she's be home in time to greet the family that's coming to visit them too. Jackson's comeback isn't scheduled until the New Year, so the two of them will split up and probably not see each other as much, despite basically living in and out of hotel rooms, traveling and spending so much time together she thinks she might look forward to missing him.

It might give her a chance to think.

"My mom wants to say hi."

Youngji blinks, staring up at him in the mirror. She's half-blank, definitely sleepy, and her makeup artist pauses, amused as she makes an excuse to go and grab some more blush from another room.

"I --"

He drops the phone in her lap. She scrambles to grab it, glaring at him too. They're at the salon and soon, they'll move and get ready at MBC for shooting.

" _Jackson_ ," she hisses. "I --"

"Mama!" he yells at the phone in her head. He says something else, but she's only aware of the fact that he's making her talking to his mom.

She finds her manner, bring the phone to ear.

"Nin h- _ao_ ," she says shakily. Her face feels warm. She tries again, over the soft laugh on the other line. "Nin h- _ao_ , Mama."

Next to her, Jackson looks way too pleased.

"Hello," his mother greets. "I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of him -- I know he's a handful and I imagine that you've a lot of really long days."

Youngji kicks Jackson's shin. He half-glares, then laughs, looking at her smugly.

"I don't mind doing it," she replies. Her Japanese is a little better because she's spent a lot of time in Japan. She's never really stayed in Hong Kong long enough, but she's been practicing in case she gets to meet his parents again. Jackson looks surprised. "I'm sorry," she apologizes. "I'm -- trying to get better. My English is a bit rusty too."

Jackson's mom laughs. "I'm just happy to talk to you too. Just tell him to bring you home next time," she says.

They talk for a few minutes more, until her makeup artist is back and their manager looms in the doorway. When she hangs up, she toss his phone back at him, standing so she can change and Jackson can sit in the chair.

"Your mom says to bring me home," she tells him, loud enough that it makes him blush and she passes, disappearing behind the dressing curtain. She changes into her outfit for stage, mussing her hair a little.

"She's crazy," he calls back and she hears the makeup artist last and the blush in voice. 

"She's your mom," she says. She steps out, smoothing out her skirt and moving to sit down next to him. "And I would go to Hong Kong with you to see your parents with you. I like your mom a lot."

He studies her, seriously. Something in her flutters and she thinks to herself she might not need a name for any of this, if he stays in her life and around her too. She thinks about kissing him again, for real this time, whatever _real_ means. She wonders if she just wants to hear the word _girlfriend_ after all.

It's not until later, after the stage, after they win (WEIRD, right -- because they've won at least three times and it's weird to think that after all the other people in her life, between the secret dating tips and the crazy fan stories, that they have fans that support them too) and it's all just a rush, they asks her to coffee and she hides underneath a jacket to agree.

They walk and it's fine. It's late enough to get semi-noticed by people and they're too far to go to her parents' place. They pick a small spot in Hongdae, pick an even smaller corner in the upstairs portion of the coffee shop and instead of sitting across from her, he sits next to her at the window and they share an Americano.

"So let's date," he says.

She's startled, sitting straighter, not even noticing when he drapes his arm over the back of her chair. She stares at him and then stares at him more.

"But I thought --"

He shakes his head. "I got their blessing," he says dryly. "In fact, JB hyung told me that if I didn't get together, he was going to give BOTH Mark and Bambam his permission to go after you and that's just not going to happen because I would kill them even though, like, they're my brothers."

"You're rambling," she snorts. Her heart is pounding. "You have to slow down a little."

He shakes his head. "You understood me. And Hara gave me her permission when she met me. Your mom also calls me a lot to check and does that weird mom thing where it takes awhile, but I think I got that too."

"Got what?"

He grins a little, then leans in, his mouth sliding over her jaw and she's breathless, surprised and it feels a little different, even more so than before.

"It's settled, then. We're dating."

Youngji's eyes are huge. Her heart is racing. She thinks _of course, of course it's going to happen this way_ because she wouldn't expect anything less from him. But it remains just as simple, just as pure as it was supposed to start for them, their fingers lacing together, dropping over her knee and their drink forgotten for the moment.

In a week, they'll hit the four million mark on their video, their single goes gold, and someone will take a photo of them at the movies (she had wanted to see a comedy, he picked action and won because she always picks _scissors_ , you'd think she'd learn) but it doesn't matter because NO ONE is surprised.

Sunny is the first to send them flowers.

The card is white. YOU SHOULD STILL DO WE GOT MARRIED, IDIOTS!

Jackson only laughs.


End file.
